Hope For Garbage (17 page)

CHAPTER
39

It was Trevor’s second day at Lorene’s house.  So far, it had been quiet compared to the first.  Not that he was complaining.  He wouldn’t mind having one day with no visitors at all.  He was already exhausted and it was only late afternoon.  The stress must really be catching up with him, because he hadn’t done much of anything today.

Earlier he had watched TV for a while, and then he helped Reggie on his train cars.  While painting the old cars Trevor was reminded of the Box.  All of his tools, his projects, his ideas—up in smoke, literally.

He was now in his new room
putting away the few clothes he had.  He liked this room; it didn’t smell.  And he couldn’t get over how clean everything was.  He didn’t have to worry about things crawling on him in his sleep, or the disgusting toilet that overflowed on a regular basis.  He would never have to step inside Uncle Gary’s rat hole again.

Trevor couldn’t wait for the day when he got to face his uncle
again.  Imagining him all decked out in an orange jumpsuit and cuffs made Trevor smile.

There was sure to be a trial.   Uncle Gary would nev
er confess or make a deal.  But that didn’t bother Trevor.  He planned on being there for every minute of it.

That
day played over and over in his head.  It was still hard to believe that the whole thing had happened at all.  He knew his Uncle Gary had a screw loose—there was no doubt about that.  But to come at Trevor with an axe and leave him to burn?  That was a whole new level of crazy.  Trevor could only hope the bastard would get what he deserved.

“Knock, knock…”  It was Lorene.

“Come in!”   

Lorene was always smiling, “Hey, I forgot to tell you that Jean Tyminski will be stopping by in a little bit—
Mr.Tyminski’s daughter.”

Really?

Trevor’s heart sank at the thought of Mr.T.  It still didn’t seem real.  He felt uneasy about meeting Mr.T’s family.  What if she blamed him?

Lorene set a glass of ice water on the bedside table.  “If you’re thirsty…
It’s a hot one today.”

She must have seen the worry on Trevor’s face
, “Jean came to see me a couple of days ago, and said she really wanted to meet you.  I wouldn’t have invited her over without giving you more notice, but she has a flight back to California tomorrow.  I meant to tell you last night, but you looked so exhausted.  And you went up to bed so early.”

Trevor wished he could just hide in this room forever
, just pull the covers up over his head and never come out.  “Did she say what she wanted to talk about?”

Lorene sighed, “Not specifically.  But she said very nice things about you Trevor.  She said her father talked about you all the time, and thought of you as a grandson.  She seemed like a very nice person.”

Trevor tried to feel some comfort in Lorene’s words, but his anxiety was growing.

Suddenly Jip jumped on the bed and began barking.  Someone was here.

Lorene got up, “Oh, I’m going to go get the door.  That’s probably her now.”

Shit.
  He felt very strange about meeting Mr.T’s daughter.  Her dad was gone because of him.  Trevor just hoped she wasn’t going to ask him questions about what happened that day, because he honestly didn’t have the answers.

As he walked down the stairs, his shoulders
relaxed.  Jean Tyminski was standing across from Lorene in the entryway, in shorts and a t-shirt.  She had a big smile on her face and seemed friendly enough.  The conversation suddenly stopped as they turned their attention to him.

Lorene quickly made introductions, “Trevor, this is Jean Tyminski,
Mr.Tyminski’s daughter.”

Jean reached her hand to Trevor, “It’s so nice to finally meet you Trevor.  My dad talked about you all the time.”

He nodded, “Hi.”

“Well I better go check on dinner.  Jean, can I get you something to drink?” Lorene asked.

Jean held up an aluminum water bottle, “No, I’m fine really.”
Finally someone carrying a responsible water bottle!

“
I think we’ll go outside if that’s okay with you Trevor?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

It was hot as hell outside—probably in the nineties, and humid too.  But inside the house, it was just as bad.  Lorene didn’t have air conditioning and preferred it that way.  She said she liked the heat.  It was the only time her arthritis didn’t bother her.  She offered to buy Trevor a window unit for his room if he wanted it.  But like Lorene, he didn’t mind the heat.  After having the kind of winter they did, he would never complain.

“Why don’t we go sit on the porch?” Jean asked.

Two white wicker chairs took up most of the space on the small covered porch.  Colorful flower baskets hung from the wood ceiling.  Like the rest of Lorene’s house, it was very cozy.

They sat down and Trevor tried to
make himself comfortable.  But the familiar, uncontrollable sensations came on fast.  His heart began racing and his eyelid twitched.  And the heat seemed to make his anxiety worse.

Before Jean could say anything, he heard himself rambling, “I
just want you to know, I feel so bad about what happened to Mr.T.  I can’t believe that he risked his life for me.  And he died for me!  I am so sorry that this happened.  I am so sorry—you don’t know how sorry I am.”

Trevor
suddenly felt Jean’s hand rest on his.  As he glanced over at her, she was dabbing the corner of her eye with a tissue.  “Trevor…please stop.”

She smiled, “Please do not blame yourself for this.
  You meant the world to my dad.  He talked about you all the time.  He loved you like a grandson Trevor, he really did.”

Trevor could feel the tears welling up inside of him.  Thinking about
Mr.T was too painful.  He missed the old man so badly, it actually hurt inside physically.

He tried to focus on something—anything.  He looked across the street at two little kids running through a sprinkler.

“After my mom died, my dad was in bad shape…really bad shape.  My sister and I asked him to come out to California but he didn’t want to move.  He always said Cleveland was his home and that was that.”

Jean went on, “
Well, we even considered moving back here, but Dad wouldn’t have it.  He knew how much we loved it out there and he didn’t want his grandchildren being moved around.  He insisted we stay put—and so we did.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out another aluminum water bottle.  “God, it’s hot.”  She handed it to Trevor, “Here—I brought one for you—ice water.”

“Thanks,” Trevor took a long drink, “I guess I must be used to the heat.  It really doesn’t bother me.”

“Yeah, my dad told me that about you.  He said you weren’t a complainer.”  She took another drink, “Anyway, we would come visit twice a year and we would fly him out to see us twice a year.  But he never seemed right, and understandably so.  And truthfully, he was getting worse every year.  We were all devastated by mom’s passing, but my mom and dad had something really special.”

She was quiet for a minute and Trevor was afraid she would start crying again.  “We worried, a lot.  Until you came along.”

“Me?” Trevor asked.

She turned to face him.  “Yes you Trevor.  I can’t tell you how much my dad changed after he met you.  It was like he was a completely different person.  When we had our weekly chat, I could hear the excitement in his voice.”

Jean had a huge smile on her face now, “He loved telling me what you guys had done that week, what
you were working on in the Box—all of it.  It was such a relief to finally hear some happiness in his voice.” 

Trevor hadn’t realized
how much he had meant to Mr.T.  He knew the old man cared about him, but neither of them were big on showing emotions.  “Well, he always used to say to me, ‘it goes both ways’.  He definitely changed my life too.”

Jean sat back in her chair, “Trevor, I have to tell you a little story so that all of this will make sense to you.  Is that okay?”

Trevor wasn’t sure exactly what ‘all of this’ was.  Just when he was beginning to feel relaxed, the anxiety started creeping back in, “Okay…”

“Trevor, did my dad ever tell you…how my mom died?”

CHAPTER 40

Trevor was caught a little off guard, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear about
Mr.T’s wife.  “No, he didn’t really talk about her.”

The kids across the street were now filling up a baby pool shaped like a turtle.  They were fighting over who got to hold the hose.

“Well I don’t like talking about it, but I think I need to explain to you what happened.  All of this will make more sense.”

All of what?
  The tone of her voice changed and he thought he heard a twinge of anger in it.  He had a feeling this wasn’t going to be good.  He took another long drink of his water.

“My mother had insomnia
and it was pretty serious.  People think it’s just that insomniacs can’t sleep well, but it’s actually a medical condition and it can cause serious problems.  If it’s severe, as in my mother’s case, it can cause heart problems—even diabetes. When my mom developed high blood pressure, she decided to get some help.  She had always been very health conscience.”

Jean
paused and looked at Trevor, “I’m sorry to go on like this, it’s just I feel like my dad would’ve wanted you to know everything.”

“No, it’s okay, really
.”  Not really, but what choice did he have?

“Well, anyway, this was about the time they came out with all those new prescription sleep-aids.  So my mom decided to try one called Zenban.  She was on it for a few months and said it worked wonders.

“And then one morning my dad got up, and my mom was still sleeping.  This was unusual, but he let her sleep in for a while.  After a couple hours, he tried to wake her and she wouldn’t get up.”

Jean wiped her eyes, “He called 911 right away and she was rushed to the hospital.  But it was too late—she had suffered a massive stroke and never recovered.  Sh
e was in a coma for eight days before she passed away.  My dad never left her side.”

Trevor honestly didn’t want to hear another word, but he had to ask. “What happened?  Did it have something to do with the sleeping pills?”

“Yes.  They did an autopsy and found out she had twenty times the effective ingredient in her system.  Apparently there was some kind of manufacturing defect at the pharmaceutical plant and a very small batch of Zenban was affected.  They never told us exactly how it happened.”

She sighed,
“Three people died and five people were seriously ill from it.  I think one of them is still in a coma to this day.  The drug was immediately recalled and never went into production again—at least under that name.  It made headlines for a day or two.”

Trevor shook his head, “God, I feel so bad that
Mr.T had to go through that.  It’s just unbelievable that something like that could happen.”

“We were devastated—and so angry.  It was just so senseless!  All of the families filed suits against the pharmaceutical company.  My father really wanted nothing to do with it.  I think it was just too painful for him.  But my sister and I were hell-bent on making someone pay, and the company wanted to avoid the bad press.”

“Is the company still around?” he asked.

“Oh yes.  It’s one of the biggest, and doing very well I might add.  My sister and I never regretted our decision.  But it didn’t make us feel any better about Mom…” Jean trailed off.

“Anyway, my dad never felt comfortable with the money.  He gave half of it to my sister Kate and I.  My sister is a financial planner so she basically managed it for both of us.

“
And, they were building a new mental health center for children near Southwest General.  Dad thought it was a worthy cause and he gave the rest to them.”

Realization hit Trevor all at once.  The one condition for
Mr.T was that he went to the Beaumont Center for his sessions.

“The Beaumont Children’s Center?”  Trevor asked, already knowing the answer.

Jean smiled with a curious look, “Yes, Beaumont was my mother’s maiden name.  Do you know of it?  It’s a beautiful facility.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”  Sneaky old man—no wonder he always knew whether or not Trevor went to his sessions. 
Mr.T paid for the damn place!

  She went on, “My dad asked Kate to invest a small piece of the settlement as an emergency fund, or a just-in-case fund if you will.  Well, my sister is an excellent investor, and the money grew into quite a sizable amount.”   

Trevor was trying to process everything he was hearing, “But Mr.T—your dad—never acted like he had money.  I mean, he didn’t have any fancy cars or anything.  I never would’ve guessed it.”

Jean reached out and grabbed both of his hands.  “He never wanted the money Trevor.”  Her face lit up, “But he did want you to have it.”

“Me?”  He was confused.

“Trevor, my father left you eight hundred thousand dollars.”